


The Plan

by quaffanddoff



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: First Time, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Humiliation kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Repressed Bisexuality, Sexual Tension, Shoe Kink, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffanddoff/pseuds/quaffanddoff
Summary: Colin takes a special interest in Ryan's snazzy new shoes.
Relationships: Colin Mochrie/Ryan Stiles
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	The Plan

Colin’s eyes were wide with astonishment. The corner of Ryan’s mouth was quirked up in a smug smirk.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Colin said, transfixed, his gaze locked on the extraordinary specimen Ryan held in his hand. “It’s so…it’s just so…”

“Magnificent?” Ryan supplied.

“Huge,” Colin corrected. “Wow. I mean that’s…big.”

Ryan shrugged modestly. “You get used to it.”

“I admit, I’m intimidated.”

“Is it really that outrageous?”

“Um, yes,” Colin confirmed. “It’s like some kind of optical illusion. My brain is refusing to process it.”

Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna touch it?”

“May I?”

With a gentle heave, Ryan tossed the shoe to Colin, who caught it and petted the leather softly like it was the hide of a delicate creature. “Lovely. Where did these come from?”

“That's the weird part: they were just waiting for me here in my dressing room when I arrived."

"So someone from the wardrobe department who noticed your love for flamboyant shoes must have brought them down for you. What's weird about that?"

"I never told anyone in wardrobe that I want these exact shoes. Remember just the other day, I was saying I'd like some flashy orange wingtip Oxfords?”

“These are actually semi-brogue Derbies,” Colin said knowledgeably, turning the vivid-hued shoe over in his hands as he inspected it.

Ryan shot him a quizzical look. “And you know that how?”

“I know things,” Colin shrugged.

“Sure you do. Anyway, I never told wardrobe my shoe size, either.”

“Do these fit you?”

“I’ll have to try them on to find out. When shoes get this big the sizes aren’t that standard anymore. One company’s size 14 is another’s 16, it's a mess.”

Feeling increasingly jittery, but trying to suppress his nerves, Colin watched Ryan sit down in his chair. Ryan was barefoot, a fact which Colin had been determinedly trying to avoid noticing throughout their entire conversation. Ryan bent to pull on one sock and slipped on the shoe. “Seems to fit all right.” He fiddled with the laces, which were tangled. After a minute of working at the knot, he huffed in frustration. “I can’t untie this. Can you help?”

Colin’s mouth felt dry. He threw a surreptitious glance at the dressing room door to make sure it was securely closed, just in case. He cleared his throat and said, “Um, yeah, okay,” before kneeling down to grapple with the laces. The knot was in a tremendous snarl. After a tense minute of struggle, he finally triumphed. He finished off the job by tying the laces into a neat bow.

Ryan grinned at the sight of Colin tying his shoe while crouched down on the ground. “While you’re down there, can you give 'em a good shine?” he teased.

“Shut up.”

“How about a nice foot massage?”

“Of course, sir,” Colin deadpanned with a sarcastic eyeroll. Playing along with the joke, he picked up Ryan’s other foot, which was still bare, in both hands. He gave it a tentative rub. Ryan grunted appreciatively, so Colin kneaded it a few times a little more firmly. Ryan gave a low hum of approval, a sound that zipped through Colin’s body like an electric shock.

“Now how about a kiss?”

Colin looked up, hardly daring to believe his ears. He searched Ryan’s face for an indication that this was a prank, a trick, an insult. He detected nothing of the sort. Hesitantly, he lowered his head and placed a light kiss to Ryan’s instep. He then licked his own lips, assessing the taste.

He glanced up at Ryan again, looking for affirmation. Once he found the reassurance he sought, he lowered his head again. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, willing his hands not to tremble, then began to trail light kisses down the top of Ryan’s foot. He trailed some more across his toes, from smallest to largest, feeling the sparse hairs tickling his lips. He reached the big toe and swirled his tongue around it, then surrendered to his impulse to close his mouth around it completely. He sucked gently and felt Ryan twitch a little. He sucked harder and Ryan’s toes splayed, stretching out involuntarily as he adjusted to the new sensation. Colin took the opportunity to swipe his tongue in between his toes, causing Ryan to flinch again and squirm in his seat. 

When he had taken care of each toe several times over, he lifted Ryan’s foot slightly higher and kissed it on the bottom. Clean, a hint of cotton, a whiff of sweat, something indefinable but essentially _Ryan_ —it tasted just right, enticing in a way that appealed to a base, instinctual part of him and unleashed a new flood of arousal throughout his body. It was exactly what he needed. It emptied his mind of any language besides a few scattered fragments like _yes_ and _good_ and _more_. 

Feeling as if he were teetering on the edge of a cliff, he used the last shreds of his self-control to pause for a moment, his eyes flickering up to Ryan’s face once again to gauge his reaction to all this new, strange behavior. He was staring intently at Colin’s mouth, looking absolutely riveted. Colin took this as a green light. 

He closed his eyes and dragged his tongue all the way up Ryan’s foot from heel to toe, a move that elicited a soft groan from Ryan. Encouraged, he licked his way up and down the sole, enjoying how his mouth seemed to fit perfectly inside his arch as if it belonged there. After a few passes, he noticed an ache beginning in his neck due to his hunched-over posture. He took a moment to roll over flat onto his back instead, then brought Ryan’s foot back down to his mouth, upside-down now. He held it there tight as he resumed licking and kissing it all over.

Ryan blinked, certain that he must be imagining the sight before him, that it must be some weird dream brought on by watching porn right before bed or something; but no, Colin really was lying there on the floor, his expression of obvious bliss partially obscured by the foot planted on his face but still unmistakable. It was surreal to see his friend down there looking like the very picture of subservience. Ryan was shocked by what it awoke inside him.

The physical sensation of the tongue eagerly bathing his foot was pleasant enough, but that wasn’t what was causing Ryan’s breath to quicken and his pulse to race. The very thought of Colin tending to him so obediently, lowering himself both physically and symbolically just for Ryan’s gratification, getting completely lost in the act—it was Colin’s submission itself that was turning him on so powerfully. 

Up to this point, he had been passively allowing Colin to service his foot. Now he took charge. With a low growl, he pushed downward, increasing the pressure, essentially stepping on his friend’s face. Colin instinctively resisted for a second, but then relaxed and allowed himself to be pinned to the floor. Ryan rubbed his foot over his cheeks and chin as if marking his territory. Colin accepted the rough treatment, allowing the motion to roll his head from side to side. His jaw dropped open and Ryan dipped his toes inside, pushing deep, feeling the scrape of his teeth. He pushed further, seeking the back of his throat—it occurred to him that if he kept going like this, he might eventually feel Colin gag, a thought that inspired another surge of excitement, but his foot was too big to fit all the way in. 

Regardless, Colin was clearly in heaven. He looked half-ravished already, eyebrows arching, breath ragged, low whimpers emanating from his throat. Ryan couldn’t believe the effect this was having. He wondered what else he could do to unravel Colin further.

He drew back his foot and slid it down Colin’s neck onto his chest. He could feel Colin’s heart pounding beneath his shirt, the same one he was going to wear on stage later in the evening. Ryan scooted to the edge of his seat in order to continue dragging his foot slowly down the length of Colin’s body; he paused when it reached his crotch. He could feel through the layers of clothing that Colin was already hard, and he slid his foot up and down the bulge, coaxing more length out of it, feeling himself harden in tandem. 

Ryan’s head was swimming. It had been a long time since he had last come into intimate contact with another man’s body, and those hazy memories of furtive fumblings in private corners of darkened black box theaters felt more like flashbacks to another lifetime, as far removed from his real life as scenes from a movie. Nowadays, those memories were easier to disown than to acknowledge. It had long ago become second nature for him to ignore this kind of dormant desire, but now it was being dragged out into the light. The distinct excitement he felt flooding his veins was impossible to deny or rationalize away. It was enough to remind him, quite viscerally, of the parts of himself he usually tried so hard to forget.

Ryan shook his head in order to clear it. Thinking could wait; now was the time for feeling and doing. 

He tapped the button on Colin’s pants with his toe. “Get rid of these,” he said, aiming for a commanding tone, but his voice betrayed him with an audible quaver. 

Nevertheless, Colin quickly obeyed the order, fumbling with his belt and making short work of his fly. He lifted his hips and shoved his pants halfway down his thighs. After a brief moment of hesitation, he tugged his underwear down to join them. He wanted this— _god_ , did he want this—but it still felt distinctly humiliating to expose himself, lying there on the floor, while Ryan was seated above him, still fully clothed. 

He squirmed with embarrassment under Ryan’s piercing stare. Doubts crept into his head as he wondered, not for the first time, whether this was a good idea, whether he was going to regret this, how it was going to affect their friendship—but he pushed these thoughts away and the vacuum was quickly filled by arousal.

Ryan raised an impressed and slightly envious eyebrow when Colin’s boxers came down. “Wow, Col. What were you were saying earlier, about feeling intimidated by the size?”

“What?” breathed Colin, not understanding.

Ryan nodded toward his groin. “The _size_.”

Colin got it, blushed, and grinned. “Oh, that. You get used to it,” he shrugged modestly.

Ryan took a deep breath, fighting off an urge to succumb to a fit of nervous laughter. Instead, he placed his foot back on Colin’s stomach and slid it slowly, gradually downward. When it reached the coarse hair at the base of his cock, Colin's breathing seemed to cease.

“Look at you,” Ryan murmured. “Fucking beautiful.” He ran his toe up the considerable length of Colin’s erection, feeling uncoordinated and awkward, but Colin clearly didn’t care: he let out a long-suffering moan, a sound of relief and awe intermingled.

Ryan was surprised by the amount of wetness he felt under his toes. He unfastened his own pants and slid a hand into his underwear to compare. He was leaking a little pre-cum, too, but not nearly as much as Colin was, and he found himself thrilled by the increasingly slippery mess being made beneath his foot. He focused on finding a rhythm, on smoothing out the motion of his clumsy foot sliding up and down, jerking off Colin’s wet, twitching cock as best he could.

“Fuck, Ry,” Colin panted, trying not to writhe too much lest he disrupt Ryan’s efforts. “Feels s-so good. It feels—I could—I might cum just from this.”

“Yeah? You like what my foot’s doing to you?”

“God, yes,” groaned Colin, his composure completely lost. “Love it. So much.”

“How about this?” Ryan asked, lifting his other foot and bringing the new shoe down to rest on the center of Colin’s chest.

“Oh my god...” Colin reached up and began stroking the leather with both hands. His dick jumped at the same time, and Ryan used his bare foot to spread around the resulting moisture. “These shoes. These feet. So amazing.”

“Have you always been this obsessed with them?” Ryan asked, trying for a casual, playful tone.

But Colin detected the genuine curiosity beneath the question and froze, his hands stilling. “A pretty long time,” he admitted in a small voice. “Sorry. Does that freak you out?”

“No,” Ryan said automatically, even though, in all honesty, it did scare him a little. He didn’t want to think about the idea that his best friend had secretly harbored some kind of deep fucked-up attraction to him, or at least to his feet, all these years. This was not the right moment to get into all that. “I find that really hot, actually,” he added truthfully.

“Why?”

Now it was Ryan’s turn to flounder. “It’s…flattering. To learn you’ve been, um…admiring them. When their size is usually inconvenient or something I get mocked for. Being a freak of nature is not typically seen as a positive.” He waved away Colin’s attempted objection. “So yeah, the idea of you secretly drooling over my feet is kinda fucked up...but luckily, ‘kinda fucked up’ kinda does it for me.”

Colin had no protest against that one.

“Hang on…” Ryan said shrewdly. “Was it you who left me these shoes?” 

“No,” Colin said. “Really,” he added in response to Ryan’s skeptical expression, "it wasn’t me.”

“That’s quite a coincidence, then.”

Colin's next attempt at denial was preempted by a well-timed movement of Ryan's bare foot, so all that came out was a gasp brought on by the ensuing jolt of pleasure. How unbelievable, and yet how perfect, that Ryan’s feet would turn out to be as talented as they were huge, gorgeous, and delectable. As long as they kept on doing what they were currently doing, it wouldn’t be much longer until they pushed him over the edge. He was already most of the way there, breathless and speechless, delirious with need.

Beyond the capacity for conscious thought, Colin continued to fondle the shoe planted heavily on his chest. He timed each stroke of the leather to coincide with the movement on his cock. It felt incredible, but he still wanted to feel more. He slid one hand up Ryan’s leg, his back arching off the floor in order to reach high enough to glide past his calf, his knee, his thigh, toward his—

Abruptly, a loud voice crackled over the studio’s PA system, badly startling them both. _“Ryan Stiles to the stage for soundcheck. Mr. Stiles, please report to the main stage.”_

“Guess I’ve gotta go,” Ryan shrugged with a sudden devilish grin. Before Colin’s incredulous eyes, he withdrew both his feet. Without bothering to clean his bare foot, he tugged on his other sock, slipped on his other shoe, and was halfway out the door before Colin really registered what was happening.

Ryan paused in the doorway to adjust himself and to take one last look at Colin: still lying there on the floor, incoherent, overstimulated, dazed, and balanced on the edge of bliss. “We’ll continue this after the show. See you on stage,” he said with a wink.

As Ryan closed his dressing room door, he chuckled quietly to himself. The plan had gone even better than he'd dared to hope. Knotting the laces wasn't even part of the original scheme, the idea had just come to him in a last-minute stroke of genius. He had caught Colin furtively checking out his feet a lot lately; these shoes would've been worth every penny he'd spent on them if all they did was provide an excuse to ogle openly for a change. He was thrilled to discover they provided so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative titles for this story: [I Love You For Your Shoes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=09qJ0TlAZGA) or [You've Got Sole](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOQNhT7cyW0).


End file.
